


Got your name tattooed on my heart

by UpInOrbit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fighting, M/M, Marvel Universe, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, No major spoilers except for Civil war, Non-Linear Narrative, Nothing too bad but it's there, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 13:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInOrbit/pseuds/UpInOrbit
Summary: He was dead. Hyuck was supposed to be dead. Jeno had seen him fall with his own eyes, almost seven decades ago.“Hyuck?” It was a mirage, some kind of mind trick. It had to be.“Who the hell’s Hyuck?” The mirage replied, all too real.It always came back to them. There was no Jeno without Hyuck, no Hyuck without Jeno. How cruel, for him to find he who had been his other half after seventy years of separation. How cruel, for them to reunite on the battlefield, fighting on opposite sides.Or an Avengers inspired story with Captain America!Jeno and Winter soldier!Hyuck.





	Got your name tattooed on my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where this came from because I honestly don't know jsjsjs I just knew I suddenly had an overwhelming need to write Captain America!Jeno and Winter Soldier!Hyuck and now, we're here xD  
Important things to know before you read this: this is set in the MCU, more specifically in the Captain America movies. Some scenes I've adapted from the movie, and taken some quotes and stuff, but most are scenes I have completely come up with, that fit in the canon movie universe. There are no major spoilers here, except for Civil war's ending (more specifically, the last fighting scene). It's not too spoilery but if you haven't watched that movie or the ones after it and you don't want to get it spoiled for you, I would suggest not reading.  
The title was taken from [Tattooed on my heart, by Bishop Briggs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTPPGdf87Io), an amazing song you should all listen to!  
That's all from me, I hope you'll enjoy it!

A mask, plain and black, laid forgotten on the sidewalk, amid a sea of destruction. It was a small thing, unimportant even. Jeno hadn’t ever thought much about it, just dismissing it as something used to divert one’s attention, hide a killer’s identity. Never could he have guessed it could serve another purpose.

Standing in front of him, knifes in his hands, face freed from the confines of the mask, was a ghost.

Jeno’s fingers were clammy around the shield, the usually comforting weight suddenly making him too conscious of its existence, of everything they had done, seen.

He was dead. Hyuck was supposed to be dead. Jeno had seen him fall with his own eyes, almost seven decades ago.

“Hyuck?” It was a mirage, some kind of mind trick. It had to be.

“Who the hell’s Hyuck?” The mirage replied, all too real.

It always came back to them. There was no Jeno without Hyuck, no Hyuck without Jeno. How cruel, for him to find he who had been his other half after seventy years of separation. How cruel, for them to reunite on the battlefield, fighting on opposite sides.

***

It wasn’t that hard to break into the prison, all things considered. It had security, but nothing Jeno hadn’t faced before. Freeing his friends was a matter of minutes, not hours, and soon enough, they were out and on the run.

He guessed Jaemin didn’t really want them to be imprisoned, even after all that had gone down. If he had, it would have been considerably harder to breach the prison walls, surpass his security. One last concession, a parting gift to honour their past friendship.

“Where are we going?” Chenle’s question could barely be heard over the sound of the engine. He stared wide-eyed at everything, red sparks flowing from his fingers, feet nervously tapping against the floor, but there was nothing but trust in his eyes when he looked at Jeno.

“Somewhere safe, at least for the moment,” he replied, following the path that would lead them to Wakanda.

***

Jeno stared at the file he held in his hands, a creme-coloured folder Renjun had just given him. Inside, the winter soldier’s whole story, or at least, as many pieces as they had been able to put together: sightings, killings, abilities… Seventy years contained in a single, thin folder. Jeno couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad.

“You're going after him?” Mark’s voice brought him back to Earth. Jeno closed the folder with a sigh, rolled his shoulders and neck.

“You know I am.”

Mark nodded, pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on, put on his sunglasses. “Yeah, I do.”

“You don't have to come with me.”

Mark cocked his head, smiled slightly. “I know. But I’m your friend and if you’re going after him, then I am too. If you’re right then he needs our help, and if you’re wrong, then you’ll need someone to save your ass. So, when do we start?”

Jeno smiled, grateful, and opened the file once again.

***

Jeno had always been Hyuck’s shadow, short and skinny, never one to be noticed. Hyuck was bright, as bright as the Sun. He lit up every room he walked in, attracted all eyes to him, his pull so strong you couldn’t look away.

But that was in the past.

Jeno grew, taller, broader, serum-induced muscles changing his appearance. He attracted as many eyes as Hyuck did, maybe even more. Together, they felt like they could do anything, invincible. The world was there for their taking, so long as they survived the war.

But that was in the past.

Snow, a mountain, a freight car. 

Wide eyes staring at him as he fell down the slope of a mountain, thousands of meters of free fall, enough to break every bone in someone’s body, enough to siege a life. 

Not a sound left Hyuck’s lips as he fell or maybe it did, but Jeno couldn’t hear him, not over the sound of the rails, not over his own deafening scream, the loud crack of his heart as Hyuck took it with him.

That was in the past, and sometimes in the present, when he woke up drenched in sweat, phantom pain in his chest, muscles locked in fear and adrenalin. Sometimes, the line between past and present blurred in his dreams. Jeno had learned to loathe it as much as to yearn for it, as it was the only way to get a glimpse of Hyuck, if even for a handful of minutes.

Hyuck was in the past.

Or at least, he used to be in the past.

Hyuck, he had become what he had hated, once, a lifetime ago. And he couldn’t even hate what he had become, because Hyuck had ceased to exist, leaving an empty husk behind him.

Instead, in Hyuck’s stead, a ruthless killer, forever suspended in ice, Hydra’s living weapon.

The winter soldier.

***

Jeno felt, more than saw, Renjun approach. 

Things had changed in the time they’d known each other. At first, the former Russian spy would blend in with the shadows, making sure to keep away from sight. As they worked together, he had started to step more into the light. He had stood taller, raised his concerns more, laughed with his whole chest and not just with his mouth.

That was what being in a team made to someone, Jeno guessed.

But that was before. Before Sokovia, before the accords, before remorse and guilt ate them alive and threatened to split them apart. 

Renjun had gotten rid of the red hair, gone back to the shadows. Those days, he always wore his suit, guns and knifes strapped to his body. He was preparing for war, Jeno knew.

“You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?” Jeno turned his head to look at the spy, his soft voice breaking the silence between them. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, went back to looking at the horizon. Renjun sighed. “You can’t save them all, Jeno.”

“He’s my friend, Injun. I can’t let them kill him.”

“You don’t know him anymore, Jeno. He’s not the man you were friends with, once.”

“You would do the same if you were in my shoes. You already did,” he answered. There was a slight hitch in Renjun’s breath, the fleeting movement of his eyes, and he knew they were both seeing the same thing, arrows protruding from innocent people’s chest, eyes shining with anunnatural blue glow. Renjun crying for the first time in a decade.

“They’ll kill _you_,” there was a muted urgency in his words, in his eyes as he looked up to Jeno.

“They can try,” he replied. Renjun snorted, humourless, but he didn’t try to change his mind.

Instead, there was Renjun’s warm hand in his, closing his fingers around a thin object. Jeno raised his brows, questioningly, but Renjun said nothing. 

Opening his hand, Jeno stared at the twin slips of paper. One contained a string of words, written thrice: once in Russian, again in English, and the third one with the phonetic transcription. Jeno didn’t need to read them to know what they were, ingrained in his brain as they were: _Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, freight car_. The second piece of paper just contained a phone number.

“It’s untraceable,” Renjun said, like Jeno cared about that, like it had even occurred to him to think about it.

“He’ll hate you for this,” he said, words barely a whisper

Renjun shrugged, nonchalant, but Jeno could see it, the faintest trace of worry in his eyes, the hard lines around his mouth, his body as tense as a bowstring.

“He will hate us both when he finds out,” was Renjun’s muted reply. He glanced at Jeno’s face, once, twice, attempted a smile. Jeno did the same.

“Thank you,” Renjun merely nodded. “It has been an honor to serve with you,” he said earnestly.

Renjun turned around to face him, and stared at him, carefully. Jeno withstood his scrutiny, an honest expression in his face, his arms slightly separated from his body.

Carefully, Renjun stepped forward, put his arms around Jeno’s neck, brought him forward for a hug. Jeno waited for a second, then circled Renjun’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Don’t get killed, Cap. The world needs you. _We_ still need you.”

***

There had been a kid. There was no other thing to call him: tall, lanky, all arms and legs. Jaemin had brought a kid as reinforcements. He looked too young to be standing there and Jeno’s heart broke at the sight. No matter how many times he witnessed it, repeating over the decades and generations, that feeling would never change.

Jaemin’s lips were pressed into a thin line, but his eyes softener almost imperceptibly when he looked at the boy, his protégée, a new addition to the team to cover all the vacant spots they had left behind.

“Hi, Captain! Big fan, I’m Jis—, Spiderman!” He stuttered. Jeno almost smiled. He would have probably liked the kid, if they had met in different circumstances.

A spider against his ant. Somehow, it seemed fitting.

There was little time to think about that, however. Jaemin, he was in a hurry of just wanted to be done with everything and honestly, Jeno silently agreed with him. They had to run if they wanted to finish their mission on time, and they had all made clear where they stood. There was no point in wasting any more time.

Jaemin took off, giving commands to Jisung as he looked for the rest of Jeno’s team, and Jeno gave his own signal. An arrow pierced through his constraints and he recovered his shield.

Their objective was the jet, and that’s where Jeno tried to run to. Behind him, cars and trucks floated around, crashing against Jaemin in order to stall him, Chenle the master puppeteer of the show, with his feet dangling above the ground, eyes and hands glowing red. Mark kept Jisung off the ground, long enough for both Jeno and Hyuck to reach the plane.

The hangar was dark when they walked into it, but not dark enough to hide the presence of someone else there. Renjun had been faster.

His eyes were sad as they looked at Jeno, pointing at him with a paralyzing gun.

“Are you sure this is worth it?” He whispered.

Jeno’s throat was dry, his heart beating loudly in his own ears, but he nodded. Beside him, Hyuck stood still, a predator calculating his next move. Jeno extended a hand to keep him in place.

Renjun closed his eyes briefly, nodded to himself. When he opened them again, Jeno knew he had made up his mind. “I hope you can forgive me for this,” he muttered.

Closing his fingers around Hyuck’s arm, Jeno braced himself. There was a popping sound, like that of a gun but quieter, softer. Jeno let out the breath he was holding, found himself intact. Behind them, something fell to the ground.

Turning around, they found Black panther on the floor, still shaking with the aftershocks of Renjun’s shot. His hands were extended in their direction, but he couldn’t move, and Jeno let out a surprised laughed before he could control himself.

“You have to go, now,” Renjun urged them, not taking his eyes from the fallen prince. Jaemin was still fighting Chenle, but it was just a matter of time until he got there.

“Thank you,” Jeno said, Hyuck already sprinting towards the plane.

Renjun shrugged. “I said I’d help them find you, not catch you,” he lifted the corner of his mouth in a subtle grin. “I’ll hold them off until you leave. Good luck, Jeno,” he added, serious, “I really hope you won’t regret this.”

“I know I won’t, Injun,” was Jeno’s soft answer.

***

Jeno opens the door and walks into the room, cautiously. He knows it’s supposed to be a safe place but, after everything he has been through, everything he had seen, he can’t help but be alert. Old habits die hard, especially those that are over seventy years old.

The room is clean, functional but pretty. Mark naps on one of the chairs, snuggled against it, wet hair matted against his forehead. He sleeps so soundly he doesn’t notice Jeno walking in. Chenle does, tearing his eyes from the notebook he was carefully spinning around. No longer holding Chenle’s attention, it falls back to the ground, the magic that kept it a meter over the floor gone with Chenle’s broken concentration.

“He’s inside, the doctors just finished with him,” he says, reading the question on Jeno’s mind. He tilts his head, points at the door behind him with his head, and Jeno nods in response, grateful. “I don’t think he’s in the best mood,” he adds.

“Thanks, Chenle. I’ll keep it in mind,” he walks towards the door, changes his mind halfway there and stops, lingering by the door, but not touching it, not yet. “And Chenle?” Chenle hums in response, the only acknowledgement that he has heard him. “Thank you for helping us.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Jeno,” he replies, his accent slurring the words together. His fingers are moving, the notebook once again spinning in the air and raising until it reaches the ceiling. He turns his head towards Jeno, the smallest of movements. “That could have been me, if things…,” at that, he hesitates, and goes back to his magic, leaves the sentence unfinished.

Jeno feels a twinge of sympathy towards the boy, hopes it hadn’t had to come to this. Then, taking a deep breath, he grabs the door’s handle and opens it.

***

It was almost easy, to fall back into their old rhythm, the clashing and falling and grunting the music to their dance. Much had passed since the last time they fought together like that, but they’d lived through too much for their bodies to ever forget the other. Jeno and Hyuck, they were mirrors, polar opposites that complimented the other. 

Jeno took a step back and Hyuck lunged forward. Hyuck ducked, Jeno took over the space he left behind.

It was almost easy, to pretend they were back to where they started. Maybe, if Jeno squinted his eyes, turned his head to the side, maybe he could pretend he was facing a nazi, like they used to. Maybe he could fool himself into thinking the man wearing a full body-armor, a metal exoskeleton protecting him, was Hydra. Maybe he could pretend he was not fighting a friend.

But he couldn’t. The red and gold shone, impossible to ignore even in the dim lit room, and Jeno couldn’t push it away, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know the face under the mask. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know his voice, his laugh, his pain.

And maybe he shouldn’t. Because that was the coward’s way and Jeno had been many things, but not a coward. Never a coward.

Because to pretend he didn’t know Jaemin was to pretend his heart wasn’t ripping apart, smashed and stepped on with every choice, every decision he’d made. He had to choose, between his other half that he thought was dead and the brother he had found when he thought that was no longer possible. And that choice was not a choice, but something that was ingrained deep within, so deep it was a part of him.

He knew Hyuck like he knew himself, maybe even better, and he knew he was still there, under a hundred layers of Hydra’s conditioning. 

Jaemin had everyone, everything. Hyuck had nothing but a target on his back, a lifetime of running and hiding ahead of him. He had nothing but that, and Jeno. He always had Jeno.

Really, it had never been a choice. Any other time, it would always come to this, Hyuck and Jeno side by side, together against the rest of the world. For Hyuck was Jeno’s and Jeno was Hyuck’s, and nothing, not even seventy years of separation and death and brainwashing, would ever change that.

And maybe, someday, the look of betrayal on Jaemin’s face wouldn’t haunt his dreams. Maybe one day it wouldn’t hurt so much to know he had ripped his newfound life apart, choosing one half over the other.

***

“Is this safe?” Hyuck’s voice sounds like gravel, deep and raspy. He’s not looking at Jeno, instead staring at the space where his arm used to be.

Cautiously, like he would with a wounded animal, Jeno approaches him. The room is white, pristine, at odds with the exuberant landscape that can be seen through the windows. Another of Wakanda’s endless contradictions, he muses.

“Yes. It’s probably one of the safest places for all of us right now,” he replies, as he settles by the windows.

“You’ve lost everything,” Hyuck states. Jeno barely represses his wince, both at the cold tone with which Hyuck speaks and the words that leave his mouth. 

“It’s not your fault, Hyuck.”

Hyuck lets out a humourless chuckle. “If not mine, then whose fault it is?”

“All of them, Mark, Chenle, Renjun even, chose to help because they thought it was the right thing to do. You didn’t force them to do anything. You didn’t force _anyone_ to do anything.”

“They were following you, Jeno. And you’re lying when you say I didn’t force anyone: I forced _you_,” he replies, his voice suddenly soft. Briefly, Hyuck raises his eyes to stare directly at Jeno. “You are here because of me, Jeno.”

“I’m here because you’re my friend, Hyuck. _I_ chose _you_, not because you forced me into doing anything.”

***

_ Jeno looks up from where he’s kneeling beside Hyuck. _

_ “He’s my friend,” the words carry an air of fatality with it, and he’s tired, so tired, but he doesn’t hesitate. _

_ “So was I,” Jaemin’s words hurt, a knife to his heart. It’s blinding, and, for a moment, Jeno almost doesn’t notice the punches aimed at his face, the fists connecting with his flesh, breaking the skin. _

_ “Stay down. Final warning,” he hears it then, the softness under the harshness, the vulnerability laced in Jaemin’s words.  _

_ Not everything is lost, then. He might still recover from this, he might still be a friend to Jaemin, an Avenger, if he stays down. Not all trust is gone, the bond between them still holding by a few connected strands. He can save it, if he can give up Hyuck. _

_ Jeno closes his eyes and stands. The sound of his body rising is deafening, like glass shattering against the floor. He stands and he can feel it, see it, in Jaemin’s posture, in his defensive stance. They are no longer friends, but enemies, their relationship crumbling to pieces, slipping between his fingers like the sand of the shore. _

_ “I could do this all day,” he whispers, the bitter words heavy on his tongue. _

_ Hyuck lays on the floor, his metal arm completely gone, as Jeno and Jaemin collide onto each other.  _

_ It’s ugly. Films try and make it seem like there’s a beauty to it, music flowing, a crescendo to build up the tension, but it’s ugly. It’s the slippery feel of the blood on his fingers, the sickening crunch of bodies as noses and bones are broken, arms and legs and feet looking for the soft spots in the other’s body, as they search for that hit that will give them the upper hand, that will end up in victory. _

_ For a moment, Jaemin has it. He has Jeno against the wall, too far from him to retaliate, too close to run or hide, and he raises his hand, the palm of his suit glowing as he prepares to fire. For a moment, Jaemin has won and Hyuck is a dead man breathing, an impossibility. _

_ Then Hyuck snakes his good arm around Jaemin’s leg and pulls, not hard enough to throw him to the ground, but just what’s needed to break Jaemin’s concentration. It’s a split second, almost not enough, but Jeno makes it count.  _

_ He launches himself at Jaemin and before he can use the propellers to fly away, Jeno grabs him and throws him to the ground, pins him down. _

_ Jeno smashes his shield against the suit, renders it useless. Jaemin’s mask lays forgotten somewhere on the floor, and he stares, his face bare, at Jeno. There’s blood flowing from the cuts on his face, and bruises blossoming on his skin.  _

_ Still, Jeno hits him, until there’s a buzzing sound, glass breaking and then silence. Jaemin’s suit stops glowing, completely powered off, useless, and Jeno falls to his side, finally breathing. _

_ He has won. He has won and yet, they’ve all lost. _

***

“You shouldn’t have come back for me,” words that are barely a whisper, but sometimes whispers are louder than shouts.

Hyuck’s words echo in the empty room, turning louder every time they bounce back from the walls, or maybe that’s just Jeno’s mind playing tricks on him.

“You would have come back for me,” Jeno replies, shaking his head.

Wide eyes stare at him with disbelief, shining with unshed tears. Jeno aches to take a step forward, cradle Hyuck to his chest, but he’s unsure of where they stand, does not know if he’s allowed to so such thing, and so he stays where he is.

“I tried to kill you, Jeno.”

“That wasn’t you, Hyuck!”

“But it was!” He almost shouts. The sound makes him flinch and Hyuck curls into himself, not meeting Jeno’s eyes. “I am no longer your best friend, Jeno. That Hyuck died seventy years ago.”

“I know you, Hyuck,” Jeno replies, soft and hesitant. “I’ve known you at your best and I’ve known you at your worst and I won’t run, Hyuck, because I know you. Because I knew that, deep down, you were still there. Because it’s always been you, and giving up on you is like giving up on breathing. Both you and I died seventy years ago, Hyuck, but we came back. I know you’d never give up on me, so don’t try and make me give you up.”

Tears fall down Hyuck’s cheeks, splatter against the floor.

“Jeno…”

“I won’t leave you, Hyuck,” and Jeno sees it in Hyuck’s eyes, the way his words hurt and heal, wanting to believe but refusing to do so, not thinking himself worthy of it. Jeno hates the sight of it. “I promise.”

***

_ Jeno leaves the shield behind. It lays beside Jaemin’s broken mask, like a cruel joke, a painful reminder. They say life’s a cycle, and their has ended: they’ve come full circle. It has ended like it began, with the both of them. _

_ His eyes linger on the shield, before turning his back to it. _

_ He’s not worthy of it anymore. Maybe he never was.  _

_ He always tried to fight for America, defend the weak, the lost. But now he’s lost and Hyuck is weak, or maybe it’s the other way round, maybe he’s weak and Hyuck is lost. Either way, that doesn’t matter anymore.  _

_ What matters are the choices he’s made, the path he has chosen, and he can’t fool himself into thinking what he’s done he’s done it for America, just like he couldn’t fool himself into thinking he didn’t know who Jaemin was. Not when his body aches with every punch he’s taken, not when his knuckles are bruised and split open, and he’s covered in both his and Jaemin’s blood. _

_ Jeno is no stranger to sacrifices. He’s been sacrificing everything he’s had, he’s been, ever since he can remember. Gave up all that was his, even his life, to protect what he believed in. But that does not exist anymore. Hydra took care of it, corrupted everything Jeno stood for, right under his nose. _

_ Sometimes, you have to draw the line, and his line is Hyuck. _

_ Even if it tears him apart, even if it hurts more than anything that has hurt him before, Jeno chooses, and his choice that is no choice at all, is Hyuck. _

_ He said it once, that Jaemin was nothing without his suit. And while that is false, it’s also painfully true: stripped bare, without metal to protect him or enhance his strikes, Jaemin is not enough to stop them. He lays inside a pile of twisted metal, the broken remains of his suit, barely able to move. _

_ They leave Jaemin behind as they walk away, Hyuck limping, his metal arm destroyed. Jeno can almost feel the hate emanating from his friend —former friend— in waves. If looks could kill, none of them would leave that place. _

_ Jeno doesn’t think he will be forgiven. _

_ It doesn’t matter.  _

_ He doesn’t think he’ll forgive himself either. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. _

_ His lips move without sound, uttering words that are both an apology and a plea for absolution. Hyuck looks up, eyes only half open. Jeno knows he sees what he’s doing, but he doesn’t say anything about it.  _

_ He knows Hyuck well enough to know he’s offering one himself. _

***

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jeno,” Hyuck threatens. _If you leave, it’ll crush me_, he doesn’t say, but Jeno hears it anyway, loud and clear.

“I won’t leave you, Hyuck,” he reassures him, kneeling in front of the bed. Softly, carefully, he wipes away Hyuck’s tears, and attempts a smile. “I will always stay right by your side, for as long as you’ll allow me.”

Intertwining their fingers, Jeno brings up Hyuck’s hand, presses a kiss to his knuckles. Hyuck smiles. It’s weak and feeble, but it’s there, and it makes Jeno’s heart jump in his chest. 

Behind them, it’s a new day, and the Sun rises, painting everything in gold.

**Author's Note:**

> This was probably a mess and a bit over the place but I had so much fun with it, so I hope you have enjoyed this! I'm sorry it wasn't a fluff little story but I couldn't help myself.  
I really hoped you have enjoyed it and hopefully, I'll be back soon!  
Comments and kudos warm my heart!
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/starryjinsouls) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Val_99)
> 
> \- Val


End file.
